


The One I Choose To Remember

by apocryphile



Category: West Wing
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 08:13:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apocryphile/pseuds/apocryphile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The anniversary Josh prefers to celebrate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One I Choose To Remember

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I was working on when I got sidetracked in my fic folder and decided to post Something Might Be Right. It's considerably more cheerful!

CJ fell into step with Josh as he approached his office, ready to tease him about being able to see his desk again now that Donna was back (and then tease him some more about how happy he was that his disarmingly quirky assistant who had upped and quit for no discernible reason had now upped and un-quit with little more explanation). To her surprise, though, the desk was still heaped high with folders. Even more to her surprise, Josh was absolutely beaming.

“She really thought I wasn’t going to take her back,” he mumbled, almost to himself. 

“I thought you said she was going to deal with your desk.”

“She did!” he exclaimed, gesticulating happily. “Everything’s sorted and labeled!”

“And what, we don’t file things anymore?”

“I hate it when she files things,” he explained cheerfully, ignoring CJ rolling her eyes, “I can’t find anything. She usually ignores me but now she has to be nice to me!”

He seemed utterly delighted, and CJ was just about to leave him to it, shaking her head in disbelief, when Donna re-appeared, her arms stretched up to her head as she tied her hair back – and grabbed an armful of folders. As they watched, she strode purposefully towards the filing cabinet. CJ burst out laughing, and Josh pouted.

“I don’t think things have changed that much, pal.”

He only managed to hold the dejected expression for a few seconds. CJ knew he was genuinely relieved Donna was back, both because he desperately needed help and also because he’d been quietly worrying about her ever since she left – and missing her, that much was obvious. Filing any concerns about the matter away for another day, she nudged him between the shoulder blades.

“Go help her. That way you’ll know where everything is.”

He sighed dramatically, and she set off for her own office before he could start whining. He was a nightmare to work with sometimes, but his unbridled affection for everyone in his life made up for most of it. Most of the time. 

\---

A few hours later, she found him staring intently at the laminator Margaret used for their campaign IDs, his face the very picture of concentration. He was all but sticking his tongue out, wholly focused on the task at hand, which turned out to be making a Bartlet For America staff badge for Donna. He hunted around for a chain and when he couldn’t find one, used the one from his own neck. That left him with his own pass in his hand, and he seemed to be about to staple it to his shirt when CJ intervened. 

“Don’t do that!”

He looked around guiltily, and after casting about for an alternative solution, slid the card into his pocket, where CJ was sure it would stay for the foreseeable future. Unconcerned, he proudly held up his creation.

“Did she leave her old one in Wisconsin?”

“She didn’t have one.”

CJ raised her eyebrows.

“She didn’t have a staff badge?”

“She, just, uh, used mine.”

“She used yours.”

“We’d, like, trade off. Depending on who needed to be where. Or I’d just tell people she was with me.”

He was looking crestfallen now, fingering the laminate. Unspoken, the admission that he liked doing that and was regretting creating the credentials – never mind that it wasn’t even remotely his job – was nonetheless loud and clear. 

“That sounds impractical.” Unspoken, the implication that he was being utterly ridiculous passed him by completely. 

“Yeah.” He brightened after a moment. “She’ll like this, though. It’s like a welcome home gift… Should I get her an actual gift?”

“I don’t think she’s expecting flowers, Josh.”

His face took on a thoughtful expression. 

“Flowers…,” he mumbled as he wandered off.


End file.
